


Boys Don't Cry

by geeked



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Dad!Rick, M/M, No Underage Sex, Poppa!Shane, Underage Kissing, Underage Relationship(s), Zombie Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 09:08:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1463665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geeked/pseuds/geeked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carl had lost everything, until he realizes what he wants the most.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Boys Don't Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Carl is sixteen in this fic, if you can imagine him taller and more muscular. Rick and Shane are his parents and are actually deceased even though they are mentioned.
> 
> Kudos and feedback is ♥

Carl hated this stupid place. Just because he was teenager everybody treated him like he was a dumb kid that was too fragile to be exposed to violence, and especially to guns. When Carl found a rifle in the cafeteria, he had basically scoffed at the soldier when the man told him that guns were for ‘grown-ups’ and he wasn’t to play with them.

Carl responded in the only way he knows how when he’s pissed off, he flipped the guy the bird. Which is how he got put in detention, not being able to leave his tent for the whole day.

 _Screw_ that guy. Carl was sixteen, and probably knew way more about guns than the soldier does. He could take down more walkers with his Colt Python than any other person at the camp. If he ever had the chance to use it. During the outbreak, he was evacuated to the military camp and the gun was among the few things he was able to grab in a hurry. He shoved the barrel through the waistband of his jeans and tucked his shirt over it, sneaking it in without so much as a frisk search.

The revolver belonged to his dad, it was his most prized possession when he was alive. Both of Carl’s parents were cops, his dad was Sheriff’s deputy and Carl’s pop was his dad’s partner. Carl had idolized them from birth, he’d always wanted to grow up and become a cop too, just to make them proud.

Carl misses them.

He misses fooling around with his pop; wrestling in the garden or going out into the woods for target shooting practice. Or his dad letting him sit in the passenger seat, wearing his sheriff’s hat while they sped down the freeway in his squad car, sirens blaring much to the glares of the passing motorists. Or the yearly cross-country road trips they used to take during the summer. He doesn’t think of them often, not because he didn’t want to but because he’s afraid to. He doesn’t want to ponder what the future may hold without his parents involved.

When they died, he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to stand on his own two feet and take all of their guidance and teachings out into the world. As Carl lay on the bottom bunk bed, a tear starts to form at his eyelid, fist reaching up immediately to quickly wipe it away with his knuckles. He needs to stop acting like a pussy.

Boys don’t cry.

Carl didn’t used to have urges to break into tears. He thought he was tough, like them. He’d seen his dad cry once before when he’d sat Carl down on the couch, telling him with watery eyes that he and his pop would be getting divorced. Carl had felt shock, anger and disillusionment at the news. Everything was perfect. He _thought_ life was perfect.

Carl still doesn’t know what caused their split, seeing as they never let any unhappiness known to him. He thought that they probably just had a fight and that they would get back together. But the day he watched his pop load his luggage into the trunk of the car and drive away as Carl looked on, it finally hit him like a ton of bricks. Life as he knew it was over.

Part of him still felt a bit of anger towards them for splitting up. It didn’t make any sense. They were so happy, Carl could see it in their eyes when they looked at each other. Even when they made random chit chat he could feel their love for each other. Because he couldn’t think of a significant reason for his parents to part, Carl thinks it could have been his fault. It must have been something he did or something he said.

It didn’t matter now anyway, because they’re dead and he’ll never see them again. Carl feels an instant surge of anger, turning his head to glance at the picture frame on the bunk side table. He glares at it as he swings his arm and knocks the frame to the floor, the glass breaking from the impact of the hard ground.

Carl clenches his eyes shut at his stupidity, rolling his legs to the side of the bed and letting his feet touch the floor, then leaning down to pick it up. He turned it around and gripped either side of the wooden frame with his fingers, revealing their family portrait.

He stares down at the photo in sadness, the glass fractured in the middle covering Carl’s smiling face, his pop visible on the left and his dad on the right. Huge grins plastered on their faces as they look straight ahead from behind Carl. He takes the photograph out of the frame, giving it one last glance before putting it in the bottom drawer of the bedside table.

“Hey Carl,” another boy says, appearing at the entrance of the tent. Carl’s eyes dart up at the sound of his friend’s voice, giving him a weak smile, “Hey Robbie,” he greets back as Robbie’s eyes light up at Carl’s smile.

“You wanna play ball?” Robbie asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Nah,” Carl says, “I’m okay.”

Robbie nods shyly before he turns to walk away. He was about a year younger than Carl, having been picked up somewhere north of Atlanta. Robbie was close to death before he was found, slowly regaining his health in the four months he’d been at the camp. Carl thought Robbie was annoying at first, always pestering him with questions and following him around like a lost puppy.

Until one day, Carl realized that what he was really looking for was a friend. They weren’t many of those to be had anymore. So when nobody else wanted to give the new kid a chance, Carl stepped up. They’d had a lot of good time’s together, eventually becoming close. Robbie always had a way of making him smile, no matter what he was going through.

And recently, every time Carl looked in the other boy’s eyes, he felt a weird flutter in his chest. Carl didn’t know what that meant. He’d never experienced such feelings.

Maybe it was just fear of losing Robbie, Carl didn’t know.

But whatever it may be, Carl knew one thing; he had to protect Robbie. Not just because he wants to, but because it’s what his parents would expect of him.

***

As soon as word spread of an impending plague, many large survivor camps were immediately setup by the military on the outskirts of Atlanta. The protection of minors was the first priority, even if it meant being taken from family that wasn’t infected. As the camps became overpopulated, food was scarce and panic spread, which lead to all of the camps being overrun and destroyed, all except for one.

Fort Stevenson was the only one left standing and relatively untouched, not having suffered a fatality on the inside in many months. They weren’t many kids here like in the others, as this was originally one of the main military bases.

Carl didn’t like the authoritative regime, he especially despised being told what to do. Sometimes he thinks of escaping and getting by on his own. He knows he is more than capable of taking care of himself. But that would mean leaving Robbie behind, and he wasn’t willing to leave him here alone.

Holding up his mattress with his arm, Carl reaches under and grabs his gun. He hides it in the waistband of his jeans before walking out of the tent into the darkness. It was noticeably colder as Winter started to creep in, Carl’s breath turning to vapor in the air. There were fires scattered across the field with groups of people sitting around them, guards walking in between to keep an eye on things.

Carl spotted Robbie in the distance, a taller boy encroaching on his personal space. Carl sneered at the sight of Jackson gazing down at Robbie. Carl hated Jackson. The guy was the biggest jerk on the face of the planet. It all started when Jackson stole his dad’s badge from his bunk side table, Carl was so filled with rage that he stormed straight up to Jackson and punched him square in the face, breaking his nose. Pushing him against the wall and twisting his arm until he told Carl where the badge was.

And because of this incident, Carl got put on solitary confinement for two days, locked away in a small, dark prison-like room. Alone with only his thoughts to get him through. Not that he cared. He spent the majority of that time staring down at his bloodied knuckles, satisfaction at having given Jackson exactly what he deserved.

Jackson loved to provoke him, he knew that Carl and Robbie were close and was always scheming to turn Robbie against him. Robbie looked up at the boy, chuckling briefly at whatever lame ass joke he made. Carl walks over, Jackson’s face instantly transforming from a grin to a full on glare. Carl ignores him, instead focusing his attention on Robbie, “Hey,” he greets in an unintentional cold tone, “Hi,” Robbie says awkwardly, blinking back and forth between Carl and Jackson.

“I need to talk to you about somethin’,” Carl lies, willing to say anything to tear Robbie away from this jerk. “C’mon,” he gestures with his eyes for Robbie to follow him, stepping backwards a bit.

“Right, well…” Robbie says uncertainly, “I’ll catch ya later Jackson.”

Jackson masks his hatred with a smile, turning his gaze back to Robbie, “Yeah yeah, cool, see you _later,”_ he replies suggestively. Carl feels an immediate pang of anger, instinctively touching his gun through his shirt on the side of his waist.

Jackson briefly gives Carl the evil eyes as he turns and walks away. “So what is it?” Robbie asks with interest, “Huh?” Carl says with his mouth slightly open, still staring daggers at Jackson’s back.

“You said you wanted to show me something?” Robbie says, confused, “Are you okay?”

“I’m cool, I just…I uh…” Carl stammers, fixing his gaze back on Robbie, which causes his anger to diminish. He swallows, trying to think of the right thing to say, “I…”

Carl knew he was in trouble. He wanted to lie but the words weren’t coming to him. He sighs and looks away from Robbie’s intense gaze.

“You don’t like Jackson do you?” Robbie asks out of the blue. Carl looks at him in surprise, “No,” he says after a few seconds.

“Why not?” Robbie asks innocently, “He’s a cool guy once you get to know him.”

Carl frowns as he shrugs, “Because.” _Because he wants you._

“Okay,” Robbie gives in as he crosses his arms, not wanting to ask any further, “I’m going to go back to my tent, it’ll be curfew soon.”

“Yeah sure, curfew,” Carl repeats nervously, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight Carl,” Robbie says, slowly walking backwards away from him, “Night Robbie.”

***

Carl lay wide awake as he was forced to listen to the creaking of the mattress above him. His bunkmate, Tyler, had a nightmare every single damn night. Tossing and turning, muttering about some guy called Tom. But as much as Carl wanted to slap him awake and tell him to shut the fuck up, he couldn’t. The guy obviously has issues and Carl doesn’t want to come off as a bully. It wasn’t like Carl got much sleep anyway.

Instead he sits up against the wall, resting his arms on his bent up knees. He pushes down the blanket with his feet as he glances sideways at the pitch black darkness through the window. The only thing visible was the stars in the night sky.

Carl sighs, he honestly didn’t know how much longer he could tolerate living in this place. He feels like a werewolf that just wants to shift into his true form and run free through the woods. He feels trapped, like he doesn’t belong here. But it was the only sanctuary that existed, it was somewhere where he didn’t have to worry about walkers and scavenging for food. It was the closest thing to a “normal” life.

It was safe.

Carl notices something moving out of the corner of his eye as he turns his head in the opposite direction of the window. He could see Tyler’s arm dangling from above, fingers grasping the air. Carl pushes himself to the bottom of the bed, rolling his legs out and standing up.

“Tyler?” he asks apprehensively, taking a step back when Tyler reaches his arm out at the sound of his voice. Carl could make out the lines of his face in the dark as he looked up towards his eyes. Even in the darkness, Carl could see his pupils were dilated.

Tyler surges forward, falling out of the top bunk onto the ground with a loud thud. Carl could feel something was wrong as he stood, frozen in his position. Tyler reached out and grabbed his leg, gripping his ankle and interrupting Carl from his momentary daze. Tyler pulls his body forward, opening his mouth and grunting loudly.

“Dude!” Carl yells, “Get off!”

Tyler’s grip on his leg starts to hurt as Carl tried kicking him in the head with his other foot. Carl stomps down on his face hard, Tyler’s whole body dropping to the floor. Carl shoves his arm off his leg with his foot and steps backward, slightly panting. Carl feels afraid enough to take out his gun from his waistband, aiming it towards the other boy.

Tyler stays still for a second before raising his head and letting out a low growl as he awkwardly raises to his feet and stumbles forward towards Carl.

“Just stay back!” Carl warns, “I mean it man,” he continues, finger at the trigger. Tyler doesn’t respond, instead charging forward faster. As he makes his way to Carl, the moonlight from the window shines briefly on Tyler’s face. Carl catches a glimpse of one of his blonde locks and his bright yellow, hungry eyes. At the realization that he was a walker, Carl raises his gun and shoots a bullet through his forehead.

He takes a deep breath as he stares down at the corpse, blood splattered on the floor. Carl’s face hardened at the sight. He had killed walkers before, but this one felt different. He didn’t know Tyler that well, he never spoke much. But it felt like he just murdered a buddy.

The door of their room busts open as a soldier bursts in aiming his handgun, “Drop your weapon!” the soldier orders. Carl lowers his gun halfway as he stares at the man in shock, “Now!” the soldier yells.

Carl drops the gun to the floor and puts his hands up, squinting a bit at the glare of a flashlight shining in his eyes, “I… I had to,” he mumbles, “He came at me…”

“Get on the ground and put your hands behind your head, _now,”_ the soldier orders, irritated at Carl’s slow compliance.

Carl slowly gets to his knees, lowering himself forward flat on his belly and placing his hands on the back of his head. He hears loud footsteps all around him before he feels his hands being pulled downwards to his lower back. He could feel cool metal rings being attached at his wrists, realizing he was being restrained when he could hear the clicking of the cuffs.

He stared forward at the ground and didn’t say another word. Knowing that anything he said wouldn’t make a difference. Two soldiers lifted him to his feet by his arms and escorted him out of the building. Carl winced a bit in pain as his bare feet dug into the graveled ground until he finally came to the solitary building and is taken to a dark room.

“Sit down,” the soldier spits coldly, standing nose to nose with him. Carl reluctantly does as he’s told and sits backward on the wooden bench as the soldiers back away and leave the room.

Carl thinks that they’re probably disposing of Tyler’s body this very moment, cleaning up the mess before sunrise. Carl knows how they operate. He knows come morning that they’re going to tell everyone that Tyler passed away in his sleep. Or he died of some other unknown cause. Because if the people of the camp knew the truth, that Tyler had turned, they would panic.

“Well, well…” a deep voice says as Carl looks up. He snickers at the sight of Sergeant Ramirez standing in the doorway, looking towards Carl with a smug grin. The guy thinks Carl is a troublemaker and always seems to feel triumphant after Carl is caught.

“Just can’t keep outta trouble, huh kid?” he says as he walks forward and stops a meter or so away from Carl.

“I want my gun back,” Carl says sternly.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

Carl’s instantly tries to get out of the cuffs, the metal clinking as the cuffs hold his wrists in place. His heart was beginning to race as he felt rage rise up in his chest. He felt the urge to fight. To knock this guy out.

“It’s _mine,_ ” Carl growls, eyes piercing at the Sergeant.

“No citizen is allowed to carry weapons,” Ramirez says, “You know the rules, Carl, you just don’t seem to want to obey them.”

Carl scoffs, “I want my gun back,” he repeats as sternly as before.

Ramirez sighs before kneeling down and looking up at him seriously, “You know you should really be thankful for what you have here,” he says, “We’re responsible for your safety, what about Robbie?” he continues, “What if something happened to him?”

Carl glares at him, “ _Fuck_ you.”

Ramirez lowers his head and chuckles at Carl’s profanity, rising back to his feet.

“You’re one stubborn kid,” Ramirez says, “Just like your father.”

Carl looks at him in surprise, “You knew my poppa?” he asks, “Sure did,” Ramirez responds, “We attended police academy together.”

“Shane was a great man,” Ramirez says admiringly, “So was Rick.”

Carl gives a weak smile at the praise of his parents.

“But they wouldn’t like how you’re acting.” Ramirez criticizes.

As quickly as his mood lifted it quickly diminished, “You don’t know me, and you sure as hell didn’t know my parents.” He spits angrily.

“You’re right, I expected a son of theirs to be one of the good guys.” Ramirez replies, giving Carl one last glance, “Have a good night.” He finishes sarcastically before turning and leaving the room, closing the door with a soft thud.

Carl felt numb at the words, clenching his eyes shut. He knew it wasn’t true, he was good. No matter how hard he tried, Ramirez couldn’t break him. Carl wouldn’t let him get under his skin. At that moment, he knew what he was going to do. As soon as the sun rises, he’s going to take back what’s his and break out of this hell.

He’ll make his bid for freedom.

***

The door swings open suddenly, jolting Carl awake and causing him to jump up onto his feet as a burly soldier stomps his way into the room.

“Someone to see you.” He says, gently pushing Robbie forward into the room at his lower back as he walks forward beside him. The soldier marches up to Carl, “Turn around,” he orders as Carl’s brow furrows in confusion, “Do you want the cuffs off or not?”

Carl immediately turns his back to him and holds up his wrists from behind, feeling the key being inserted and turned, breaking his hands free of the hard metal. He brought his hands forward, rubbing at his wrists with his fingers as he turns back to Robbie.

Robbie rushes forward to Carl, face full of concern, “They told me what happened last night,” he tells him, “Are you okay?”

“I’m just peachy,” Carl jokes, letting out a light chuckle, “You could have died,” Robbie says sadly, his eyes starting to water.

“ _Hey_ ,” Carl says, putting a hand at his shoulder, “I’m okay.”

Robbie nods mutely, placing the palms of his hands on Carl’s chest, feeling his heartbeat as he leans up on his tip toes. Carl watched as Robbie leaned up closer, eyes pleading. He knew what he wanted, they’d both waited a long time for this. Carl moves forward quickly, briefly pressing against Robbie’s warm, plump lips. Carl thought his first kiss would feel awkward, but everything about it felt right. It felt good.

When they part, a blush creeps up Robbie’s neck.

“M’sorry I didn’t mean to,” Robbie mumbles as he starts to turn away from Carl quickly, “ _No,”_ Carl says, it coming out in an unintentional low growl as he pulls Robbie back by the arm. He places both his hand at Robbie’s waist as he leaned in for another kiss.

Carl envelops his soft lips with his own, tongue fighting for dominance. Robbie submits, letting Carl delve his tongue into his mouth dominantly. Robbie tilts his head to the side a bit, his nose brushing against Carl’s cheek.

“Hey!” the soldier yells, causing them to break the kiss suddenly, “Knock that off, or I’ll put you both in handcuffs.”

Carl doesn’t break his gaze from Robbie, “You taste like strawberries,” he says, smiling, Robbie giggles, full dimples on display. Carl stared at him in slight awe. He had an overwhelming urge to push Robbie up against the wall, pressing his nose into his neck to smell his scent. Pushing his hands up the back of his shirt to caress the bare skin of his back. Instead, Carl runs his fingers through Robbie’s dark wavy hair as he looks into his eyes lovingly.

A tapping foot lulls him out of his fantasy as he glances sideways to the soldier, an expression of disgust on his face as he realizes the soldier has been watching them the whole time, “What are you starin’ at?” Carl says aggressively, turning to walk towards him.

“Carl,” Robbie says quietly, hand coming to his chest to stop him from taking another step.

“They took my gun,” Carl tells him, gaze still locked on the soldier, who was looking back in warning with his arms crossed.

“I’m sorry,” Robbie replies sincerely, “Maybe they’ll give it back once you get out.”

“Wouldn’t count on it,” Carl says as he takes a seat and rests his arms on his knees, “One of these pigs is probably shooting it right now.”

“Don’t get yourself worked up,” Robbie says soothingly, sitting down beside him and lifting Carl’s chin with his knuckles. Any anger Carl has seems to always evaporate when Robbie speaks to him.

“Yeah,” Carl agrees, “So-“

A loud boom fills the air, the floor shaking before a loud siren blares. Robbie grabs Carl’s hand in fear as the soldier rushes forward to them, “Get up!” he roars as they obey, running out the door and being led down the hallway. As they pass another room, Carl sees his gun sitting on a high shelf, halting and going to retrieve it and checking it for bullets.

“Carl!” Robbie shouts in urgency as Carl runs towards him and looks around for the soldier, who has seemingly disappeared, “Get behind me,” Carl orders, pulling Robbie behind by his wrist and aiming his weapon forward down the narrow hallway.

“What should we do?” Robbie asks, scared and looking to him for direction.

They could hear shooting coming from outside, bullets hitting the windows, the walls muffling the sound of people’s screaming. Carl had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before the peace came to an end. He’d been preparing himself for this day, both mentally and physically. When everything went to hell and his parents died, he, like the rest of the survivors, found it almost impossible to adapt to this new world. But he’s since vowed to never let his guard down like that again. To never believe that everything is okay. To always be prepared for the worst.

He couldn’t protect his loved ones in the past, but he can protect the only loved one he has now. He can protect Robbie.

“We gotta get somewhere safe,” Carl says, “Let’s go.”

Robbie followed Carl down the never ending hallway, he’d never been so scared in his life. He hated the feeling, foolishly he thought he would be safe after he was brought to the camp. After all, how could he suffer anything worse than he has before. Robbie has a sinking feeling in his stomach when he remembers the day his mom and sister died.

They had tried to escape Atlanta during the chaos. Deciding the best thing to do was to leave immediately by car. But everyone else seemed to have had the same idea, blocking the entire freeway out of the city. The infection spread through the traffic and they had no choice but leave the road and run through the woods. They ran and ran, his six year old sister struggled to keep up so he carried her on his back, slowing him down. Robbie doesn’t remember much after that, except for his sister’s cries. He can still hear her at night when he tries to go to sleep. It tears him up inside that he couldn’t save her and that she died such a brutal, undeserving death.

They finally come to the main door, stopping to peek out the windows. They were people running in all directions, some bloody, being pursued by several stumbling walkers as the soldiers were outnumbered. The main wall had fallen in a pile of bricks, creating a wide opening for the infected to enter from the street.

“We should make a run for it,” Carl announces, hand grasping the door handle, getting ready to open it, “But we can’t go out there, it’s not safe.” Robbie pleads.

“It’s not safe _here_ ,” Carl tells him, “We’ll find somewhere else, I promise.”

At Robbie’s look of uncertainty, Carl places his hand on his cheek and rubs the skin under Robbie’s eye with his thumb, “I don’t want to tell you what to do, but I can’t leave you here,” Carl explains, “I have to protect you.”

Robbie blinks at him, “Why?” he asks quietly.

Carl sighs and looks away for a second before returning his gaze to Robbie, “Because I love you.” He announces bluntly, immediately pushing down on the handle and kicking the door outward, Robbie still looking at him in shock at his statement.

“You comin’ or what?” Carl asks, holding out his arm for him. Robbie reaches to take his hand after a few seconds, both of them running towards the toppled wall for freedom.

Carl shoots a walker that charges to them from the side, the loud bang of the gunshot making Robbie jump and sending a shiver down his spine. He never liked guns, they scared him.

They climbed over the pile of bricks, passing the boundaries of the fort and making their way down long, unknown stretch of road. Robbie was panting hard as they ran through the trees, his legs starting to give out.

“Wait!” he shouts, “I need stop for a second.”

Carl turns back, “We can’t,” he tells him, “We need to get as far away as possible.”

Robbie puts his hands on his knees as he bends down to regain his breath.

“Robbie!” Carl yells, Robbie stands back up and follows reluctantly. He had good reason to do as Carl says. He knew everything Carl ever did for him was to protect him.

He’s still scared, he has doubts on their survival. But if Robbie was going to die, there was nowhere he’d rather be than with Carl.

***

They hadn’t spoken since the morning, a kind of awkward feeling between them as they continued down the endless road, nothing surrounding them but fields. Robbie kept a bit of distance behind Carl as they made their way.

Carl meant what he said earlier. He did love Robbie, he’s known it for a long time but he’s just been too stupid to realize it. It’s not like he’s ever been in love before. He’s still unsure of what love is or what it means. All Carl knows is that every time he laid eyes on Robbie, his heart skips a beat.

Coming out of a long curve of road, Carl spots a house in the distance and turns to Robbie, “We’ll check it out,” Carl tells him, Robbie simply nods in agreement.

Carl raises his weapon once they get to the porch, hanging wind chimes clinking with the light breeze. He bangs on the door five times with his fist, taking a step backward and waiting for a response. Silence lingers for a while before Carl declares it safe to go inside.

The living area looked spotless, furniture aligned neatly and knick knacks on display everywhere. Robbie looks over the long shelf as he passes, picking up a porcelain figurine of a cat and staring at its big black eyes. He puts it back, looking at the other figurines as he places it on the edge and accidently drops it on the hardwood floor, the porcelain head breaking off and rolling under the couch.

Robbie bites his bottom lip with an expression of a child that got caught doing something naughty. Carl throws his head back in laughter, mostly just at the look on Robbie’s face.

“Shutup,” Robbie says playfully, “It was creepy anyway.”

They continue out into the large kitchen, Carl immediately going throw the cupboards in search of food or any other supplies they could use.

“This is a nice place,” Robbie announces as Carl rummages through several canned food containers, “It looks like my old house.” He says with a hint of sadness in his voice.

Carl stops what he’s doing, putting the canned fruit on the countertop and stepping a bit closer to him. He gives Robbie a look of pity that causes Robbie to immediately regret his words, “I’m okay,” Robbie assures him, “It just… brings back memories.”

“I know,” Carl says understandingly, looking out the window to the garden, “My dad used to stand here like this,” he says as he grips the countertop near the sink with his fingers, “Watching me and my Pop roughhouse on the grass.”

“I remember him always scolding us if we got too rough,” Carl says with a reminiscent smile.

“They were cops, right?” Robbie asks, “That’s so cool.”

Carl chuckles, “Yeah, everybody always told me that.”

Robbie frowns, “You don’t feel the same?” he asks with interest, “I used to… I mean I still do, but sometimes I wonder if it would have been different,” Carl ponders, “If they weren’t cops, then maybe they wouldn’t have died while trying to save everyone.”

“It sounds like they were brave,” Robbie tells him, “Like you.”

Carl scoffs, “I’m not brave,” he says, “I just do what I gotta do.”

“You are,” Robbie insists, coming closer and looking up at him, “That’s why I always liked you,” he tells him, “It didn’t seem like you were ever afraid of anything.”

“I am afraid of one thing,” Carl says as he takes Robbie by his wrist and pulls him into an embrace, Robbie stares in confusion, “What?”

“Losing you.” Carl says seriously, “That scares me the most.”

“You can’t risk your life for me all the time,” Robbie says, “I could die, but I’ve made my peace with death,” he tells him, “I know I’ll see my mom and my sister again, and you, in heaven.”

Carl sighs, inhaling sharply and pulling away from Robbie. He didn’t want to think of Robbie dying or his faith in the existence of heaven. Because to him, if god and heaven did exist, the world wouldn’t have ended up like this. Carl knows Robbie has strong beliefs in a higher power, and even though he holds a completely opposite view, he didn’t want to debate him on it. If Robbie’s beliefs gave him a sense of hope, then that’s all that matters.

“What’s wrong?” Robbie asks as he turns sideways, “Nothin’,” Carl replies, masking his disagreement with a smile, “Just tired.”

“We should stay here tonight,” Robbie says, “There might be a king size bed upstairs,” he says excitedly, “Anything would beat those bunk beds.”

Carl chuckles, leading the way up the wooden stairs as they creaked under their combined weight. They peek into a couple of empty bedrooms as they continue down the hallway, coming to the final room with the closed door. Carl turns the doorknob slowly, it clicks as he pushes the door open inward, revealing a big double bed in the middle of the room that looked like it had never been slept in.

Robbie pushes past him, jumping onto the mattress, his body bouncing up as he giggles. Carl grins before getting in from the side and laying down beside him. He instantly exhales in comfort, feeling the smooth sheets with the palms of his hands. Carl had taken for granted how good it was to have a comfy bed to sleep on every night.

Robbie suddenly turns to his side, moving over to lay on Carl’s chest, his fingers grasping at Carl’s t-shirt. Carl put his arm around him, pushing his nose into his hair and taking a whiff. Robbie’s hair kind of smelt like pine needles, Carl felt calmed by the scent.

“I’m scared to fall asleep,” Robbie whispers into his neck, “Close your eyes,” Carl whispers in response, “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Robbie does what Carl says, letting his eyes droop closed as he falls into his slumber. Carl keeps his eyes open, staring up at the ceiling and gently caressing the strands of Robbie’s hair as he slept.

Truthfully, Carl was afraid to fall asleep too. Not wanting to release his grip on his Colt Python that he’d dropped beside him on the bed sheet. He felt himself starting to give in as his eyes refused to stay open, every now and again forcing himself awake again. Carl could feel Robbie’s soft breath against his neck, comforting him enough to give in completely.

***

Robbie’s eyes flutter open, stretching his arms out above his head before turning on his other side to face Carl. He frowns when reaches his hand over onto the cold sheets, starting to feel panicked as he realizes Carl wasn’t beside him.

“Carl?” Robbie calls, looking around the room apprehensively. He kicks the sheets off and climbs out of the bottom of the bed, peeking out the doorway, “Carl!” Robbie shouts in a whisper, swallowing when there’s no response.

He turns back to the room and quickly slips his feet into his sneakers and runs down the stairs. When he reaches the bottom, he spots Carl’s back, sitting on the steps of the porch through the front door. Robbie lets out a sigh of relief, placing his hand over his racing heart.

Robbie opens the door with a click and slips out the opening, closing it behind him. Carl turns his head around, “Mornin’,” Carl greets, “Good sleep?”

“Yeah,” Robbie replies, coming to sit beside him, “Best I’ve had in ages.”

He rests his head on Carl’s shoulder as Carl places his hand on Robbie’s knee.

“Where do we go from here?” Robbie asks, “Dunno,” Carl replies honestly, “But don’t worry about it right now,” he comforts, “Let’s just… relax while we’re here.”

“Mmm,” Robbie mumbles against his side, they both sit in silence for a few seconds before Robbie lifts his head to look at him.

“What you said… before…” Robbie begins nervously, “Did you mean it?”

Carl’s brow furrows in confusion, “You mean when I said I loved you?” he asks, “Because you know I meant it.”

“I love you too,” Robbie replies the second Carl stops speaking, gaze locked on the lawn, Carl turns his face towards him with his hand by touching the vibrant skin of his cheek, leaning in to claim his lips, Robbie tilts his head to the side and lets Carl take control, hands gripping his shoulders. Carl keeps his eyes open to stare at Robbie, who had his eyes closed and was moaning into the kiss. He liked it when Robbie submitted to him like this as Carl delved into Robbie’s mouth, exploring with his tongue. They break slowly and lean their foreheads against each other, lightly panting from the intensity.

Carl had the sudden feeling that everything was going to be just fine. That even though they were in constant danger, as long as they looked out for each other and stayed vigilant they would get by unscathed. Only Robbie could make him feel this way. He’s the one who gave him a renewed sense of appreciation for life, for living. He’d felt nothing but anger for the two years before Robbie walked into his world and just made everything good again.

He thinks his parents would be proud of the man he’s become. He knows they would like Robbie, Carl imagines them all sitting around the table together at Thanksgiving. He fantasizes being married to Robbie, of being a husband to him and looking after him for the rest of his life. Carl sees himself in his police uniform, the spitting image of his dad.

They could still have all it all.

That was the beauty of living.


End file.
